Light Touch
by PatientVengeance
Summary: Sora's quest did not get very far. A Heartless trap has exiled Sora and Cloud in an pocket reality. With time suspended and nowhere to go, they are forced to lean on one another for support to stay sane. There's a story in here somewhere, but it's mostly pretty filthy. 18-and-over, Yaoi, lemon. Seriously, all the warnings.
1. Chapter 1: Light Touch

**Disclaimer: I most certainly do not own the rights either to the Kingdom Hearts IP or to Final Fantasy, otherwise I would eat a lot better and not have nearly as much medical debt. That property belongs to SquareEnix, to whom I'm eternally grateful for sharing their creative genius so us fans can shamelessly appropriate and sexualize it for use in our lascivious fantasies.**

**Final Warning: This story, while it will eventually develop into a more sprawling adventure, is and will remain shameless erotic gay male smut.**

**Note: Yes, you're about to read about Cloud Strife. No, this title is not miscategorized. It is a crossover that features the characters Cloud and Sora from Kingdom Hearts transported to a near-future version of Final Fantasy 8's world.**

/

Nothing exists anymore.

Those three simple words run on loop in Sora's thoughts for what might be hours, if time itself still exists. That it does is by no means certain. Sora suspects, in fact, that it had been one of the last things to go. Or perhaps, like everything else in the tiny square platform that had once served as a stock room behind a Traverse Town item shop, it's fading gradually from this tiny bastion of reality. That seems true of everything else.

Sora shivers and gathers his knees close to his chest under his blanket. The heat is also slow to recede, but nevertheless it too is gradually leaking from existence. It was unpleasantly humid and balmy when they first came here. How long has it been? Months, a year maybe, since Sora first noticed the almost imperceptible shift from comfortable climate to a chill?

The abyss stretches in all directions, creeping toward them. The walls that once bordered the room are long gone. When the trap sprang the world beyond its radius disappeared. Mickey, and Goofy, and Donald-all gone. It swept away Traverse Town in a blink. Or had it swept Sora away? Perhaps everyone else is all still ok, safe and sound off in another universe. He remembers banging his keyblade on the floor in frustration, for all the good it had done. The blade rests in the middle of the floor now, discarded, though Sora can barely make it out anymore in the faint lingering glow of stars that had long since winked out. That glow should have faded away some unknowable span of time ago, yet due to rules known only to the creator of the sadistic magical prison, it too remains indefinitely suspended, dim though it is.

Sora no longer even knows how old he is. While the trap had immediately staved off things like hunger, thirst, and some of the bodily functions that came with them-most likely by design, to avoid killing it's victim-time had continued to pass for at least a few years. He suspects his body stopped aging at eighteen or so, around four years from the point when Sora had first crossed the threshold and the trap had activated, stealing away all but the most meager vestige of existence. By now he might be insane. But can someone really be insane if they know they're insane? He'd heard once that you couldn't, but he doubts the person who came up with that had themselves been insane, so how good an authority could they really be?

If he clings to any shred of sanity it's because he isn't alone. Sora watches the faint, prone outline of Cloud Strife across the room shift in its sleep and roll over. The man had been near Sora when the Heartless mob came. They'd dived into the storeroom together on instinct, seeking a defensible position, but the Heartless had not followed them in. They'd known better.

In some ways it might be easier if Cloud were not there. It would be over by now. Sora has no doubt he would have thrown himself into the abyss years ago and allowed himself to fade from existence. Together they might still decide to do so, one day, but as it is they talk. They compare their unique home worlds, their upbringing, their thoughts, questions, childhood memories, and lost dreams. They share about the people who touched their old lives, for good or ill, their adventures and failures and triumphs. They give each other their memories of home, and that ever-deepening companionship and support has lent their lives meaning. There is nothing to do here except talk or die, the latter of which neither has been inclined to do, at least not yet. Now they know each other as well as it is possible to know another human being.

A new sound breaches the darkness then. That is not to say it breaches silence. The room had seemed silent at the very first, but Sora soon learned that with the presence of life there is always sound. With so little light they've both come to focus on their other senses a great deal more than they had in their lives before falling into the Heartless trap. For instance, in the absence of so much other noise, Sora is perfectly attuned to the rhythm of Cloud's breathing. He listens to it intently sometimes when the man sleeps, for company, but even when not thinking on it directly those breaths are still there in the back of his mind, a soothing presence. Sometimes, in the depths of meditation, Sora can almost imagine he hears his companion's heartbeat from across the room. This sound now is different. He has never heard it since their arrival, a little clatter like tiny clinking beads coming from Cloud.

Without thinking, Sora does something he's never done before. He crosses the floor to where Cloud lies on a makeshift bed of flour bags that were in the store room when they arrived. Sora adds his own blanket atop Cloud's, picks up the edge of the bottom blanket, and slips in behind his companion, back to back atop the improvised mattress. He tucks in, and the benefit of the shared warmth is immediate.

"Sora?" Cloud mumbles, then jerks awake and twists around. He blinks, confused, his sleepy face barely visible. "What are you doing?"

"I was cold, and I heard your teeth chattering," Sora says with a wry smile. "It's fine, go back to sleep."

Cloud blinks again, considering this. It's not like they haven't discussed eventually sharing body heat many times before now, this is merely the first time they've really had an immediate need to do so and acted on it. Seeming to reach the same conclusion as Sora, he rolls over again and shuffles backward, returning the pressure on Sora's back, keeping them close together. Soon his breathing resumes the steady pattern of sleep. Not for the first time, Sora closes his eyes and imagines those breaths as waves breaking on the shore back home.

They are both fully clothed, minus a few belts and armor that are particularly uncomfortable to lie down in. Under the covers, Sora pushes his boots off with the balls of his feet, then kicks them out from under the blanket. When he's up and alone they are an important layer of warmth, but the chance to get out of them for a while without his feet going numb from the cold is liberating. He doesn't really need to sleep right now, but Cloud's warmth is seeping into his skin, and he can't imagine a more soothing thing to do than relax here and enjoy the contact.

They lay together, impossible to say how long. Sora eventually places himself into a meditative state using one of many techniques he and Cloud have devised and practiced as a means of coping with the situation. He's only roused when Cloud rolls over in his sleep, still pressing into Sora's back, his larger body spooning against Sora's gangling form. The warmth is even more pervasive in this position, and Sora relaxes in contentment.

No sooner does Sora close his eyes again than he detects pressure against the small of his back, the unmistakable hardness of Cloud's sleeping arousal. He doesn't move. It's not as awkward as it might once have been-this is a man with whom he's shared personal space for years, after all. They've agreed that avoiding sharing body heat forever isn't an option-the cold will only become more intolerable with time. This is simply one complication they have not thought to discuss beforehand, though in hindsight they really should have.

Sora smiles, imagining Cloud dreaming of Tifa. No need to ruin it for him. What's the harm if he orgasms in his sleep? It will do the man good. Sora pushes against Cloud, firming up the pressure between his back and the man's groin. Without waking, Cloud emits an almost imperceptible moan. There was a time when Sora might have been shy or embarrassed by what he's doing, but what's the point now? They're the only two people left in the universe for all they know. It's not like it matters what anyone thinks. There is only Cloud left to Sora, and in a sea of endless nothingness this is the first new truly stimulating experience Sora has had in ages.

Cloud's breathing pattern changes as he wakes. He tenses against Sora's back in a fight-or-flight response. Sora knows the man's senses are at least as attuned to Sora as Sora's are to him. He must know Sora is awake, too, yet he doesn't move, doesn't withdraw or pull away.

"You awake?" he says, his voice gravelly with sleep.

Sora tilts his head to glance side-eyed at Cloud over his shoulder. "Dreaming of Tifa? Or is it Aerith this time?"

"Neither," Cloud says sheepishly. "I suppose we should have considered this when we talked before."

"It's really okay," Sora says, bumping his tailbone into the bulge in Cloud's pants playfully, prompting an involuntary gasp from him. "You're the one who never gets off. I honestly don't know how you do it. I have to take care of mine a couple times a day."

"I know you do."

Sora starts, rolling over to face him. "You do? I thought I was being subtle."

It's Cloud's turn to smile. "You're a teenager, Sora. Even if I couldn't hear you or see your hand moving under your blankets, I'd assume that's what you're doing any time you lie down facing away from me. You don't have to hide it. I remember what it was like."

"Huh," Sora mutters. "You say that like you're so old." Just like Sora, Cloud has aged a bit since he came here at twenty-four, but thanks to the loss of time, the shaggy-haired man is still years away from thirty to look at. "I just figured because you're already stuck in here with me, with no other choice for company...I mean, we already share so many things we have no choice about without getting into our sex lives. Anyway, you've never so much as touched yourself, and never talked about it, so I didn't either. It just seemed like you might feel it was a step too far."

Cloud closes his eyes with a shake of his head and laughs. The sound is incongruous in the empty, quiet world, surprising Sora.

"What's so funny?"

"You think I'm a prude?" Cloud asks, still laughing. "I haven't touched myself or talked about that stuff because I was stuck in this place with a 14-year-old kid. You should have asked me about it more recently, in the past couple of years. I might have been more chatty on the subject."

Sora gapes, trying to let what he thought he knew unravel, then guide it back into some semblance of reorder. "Holy shit, Cloud! You've been avoiding so much as masturbating for years because you were afraid I'd think you're...what, a creep?" He finds himself laughing too.

"I _would _have been," Cloud says defensively, wiping a tear from his eye. "No getting around it. Can you imagine me rubbing one out with a 14-year-old a few feet away?"

Sora's chuckles finally subside, replaced by thoughtful consideration. "That must have been uncomfortable in all kinds of ways."

"You have no idea. But maybe not quite as bad as you'd think. At least I haven't had teenage hormones to deal with. I actually do remember those days pretty well."

They fall silent, still lying on their sides, their noses only a few inches apart, neither wanting to pull away for fear of losing their accumulated warmth.

After a while, Sora speaks up. "I'm not a teenager anymore, you know. Not really."

Cloud's mouth quirks in acknowledgment, but he says nothing, so Sora continues.

"I mean, I know I probably don't _look_ twenty yet, but I must have blown past it a couple years ago without so much as a 'happy birthday'."

"Hm, true. Sorry about that. No calendars in here."

"I know. I just mean..." Sora trails off, not because he feels shy, or scared. He just doesn't quite know how to put what he wants to say into words. But there's no need to rush things. It'll come, or it won't. "Eh, I don't know. Nevermind."

He starts to turn over to face away from Cloud again, but concern flashes across the ex-Soldier's face, and the man's hand snaps up to catch Sora's shoulder, holding him in place. Beneath his shirt, goose bumps wash over Sora's flesh at the unexpectedly firm grasp. There's a falling sensation inside his stomach, and a sudden awareness of his own groin that promises insistent demands once it comes fully to attention.

"Wait, what it is?" Cloud says, alarmed by Sora's reticence. "I don't think you've held back from saying anything to me since the first few months we were here. You can tell me, Sora. You can say anything. If it's not what you mean, that's fine. We'll talk through whatever it is until you figure it out."

"I just...I want to..." Sora begins, but nothing feels right. Instead, mustering his confidence, he lets his hand drop down with a light touch atop the bulge in Cloud's pants. Cloud goes rigid, and his eyes widen.

"What I'm trying to say is," Sora says, voice shaking, "I don't want your first time in years to be alone, and I don't want Tifa to be the person you're thinking of when you get there."

He waits with bated breath, hating and loving this moment. The stakes are incredible, his relationship with Cloud balanced on a knife's edge, waiting for so much as a twitch in assent or rejection from Cloud to decide which way it falls. But then the bulge of Cloud's erection pulses against his hand, and Sora knows what the man's body has decided even before he speaks.

"You would do that...for me?" Cloud asks, his tone tinged with an emotion that is clearly radiating straight up from between his legs.

Sora smiles. "Yes, but I want it, too. I want you, Cloud, and everything you want to give me. We've been trapped together all this time and I know you so well...but I want- I want to truly be one with you."

There, he's said it. This is what he's been trying to express all along. The words still don't encompass the feelings in their entirely, but he trusts Cloud. He trusts the deep connection he's built with the man for so long to help extrapolate the rest of his needs, his desires. Slowly, hesitantly, his fingers feel for the clasp of Cloud's pants.

Cloud catches Sora's wrist in one hand, halting his advance, and cups his cheek with the other. Hurt and despair wash through Sora. Could he really have been so wrong? How could he have misinterpreted their relationship so badly?

"You don't want me-" Sora begins, but Cloud cuts him off by locking his lips around Sora's in a deep, passionate kiss.

"Nnnm," is all Sora can say. Cloud's tongue brushes against his lips, questing, and Sora parts them eagerly, begging for entrance. Sora practically sucks Cloud's tongue into his mouth before the larger man retakes control, accepting Sora's invitation with perfect authority. He maps Sora's tongue with his, drawing deep breaths through his nose but refusing to part until he has his fill. His intentions are apparent in the motion of his tongue, in the way it conquers Sora's mouth and makes him feel desired as it takes what it wants, which is exactly what Sora wants it to do.

Finally, the kiss breaks, leaving both men heaving deep, lusty lungfuls of air, all inhibitions shattered. Sora struggles to free his wrist and starts to move down under the blankets to position his mouth to welcome Cloud's manhood once it's finally free.

"Stop," Cloud says firmly, pulling Sora back level with him. "I _do _want you. But if we're going to do this I don't want to play games. I want it all."

Sora tilts his head, trying to read the man's expression in the darkness. He's confused, but no longer unsure, only asking with his eyes. Then realization dawns and he flushes.

"I don't know if I can yet," Sora says in embarrassment. "I've never been with anyone that way before."

"I'll take care of you, Sora, I promise," Cloud says, holding Sora's gaze with vice-like confidence. He grasps Sora's shirt at the hem and deftly pulls it over his head, exposing Sora's bare, hairless torso to both the chill of the air and Cloud's eyes, which drink in the sight of him with a mix of drowning desperation and deliberate, willful indulgence as his fingers go to work loosening Sora's belt and opening his fly.

With a smirk, Cloud drifts downward, leaving a trail of kisses along Sora's neck and chest as he simultaneously pulls Sora's pants and underwear off his hips as one.

Sora gasps at the rush of adrenaline that courses through his entire body the moment his pants clear his ankles. He begins to tremble. Cloud is aware of him, however, and pauses a moment to pull the layered blankets up over his own shoulders, covering them both, with Sora's body beneath his own, doubly protecting Sora from the chill. He reaches up behind his own neck and, with surprising swiftness, draws his shirt up and over his head.

Cloud closes the gap between them in an eager rush, the skin of his chest melding against Sora's own. The intense flood of sensation that accompanies their bodies coming together after so many insular years is the tactile equivalent of light in the darkness.

"Is this what you want?" Cloud says the words close enough for Sora to feel his breath on his ear. His hand cradles Sora's side, pulling their bodies tight together. He grinds his hips against Sora's now furious erection, trapping it between their bodies. Sora has the distinct impression, through cues of touch and body language, that he is at Cloud's mercy. He feels like an idol in Cloud's hands, worshiped, handled with reverence.

"Please," Sora whispers. "I need you."

"I know what you need," he responds with matter-of-fact assurance.

Sora's fingers fumble with Cloud's fly, beyond ready to finally have the goddamned things off. He's not thinking clearly, and takes longer to work it free than Cloud's sure strokes had with his own clothing. He eventually feels the button snap loose and pushes them down, allowing Cloud to wiggle free the rest of the way as Sora redirects his hands over either side of Cloud's ass and draws the man's bare groin down to his own.

Cloud's virility is palpable in the pulse of his hot blood and the powerful presence of his muscled form, and Sora wants nothing more than to communicate that Cloud is welcome to all he is. The skin of Cloud's cock meets Sora's own between them, and he holds it there for a few experimental thrusts. His legs entwine themselves with Sora's. His chest heaves, heart thudding, his whole body enveloping Sora's smaller frame beneath it. Sora gives in completely, closes his eyes, and wills Cloud to take him wherever he wants to go.

The pressure eases as Cloud moves away, and Sora opens his eyes to find that Cloud's face has disappeared under the blankets. He feels a gust of breath between his legs, his only warning before Cloud's soft lips wrap around the head of his penis.

"Aah!" he cries, bucking his hips involuntarily off the bed as Cloud's hand tenderly cups his sack. At the same moment Sora feels those lips ease smoothly down the length of his dick, slow enough for Cloud to savor the experience, to appreciate that secret part of Sora's body exactly as Sora had intended to savor his.

"Hey! You can't just-"

But Sora can't even finish the sentence as Cloud's mouth pulls back and lowers a second time, his hand still massaging Sora's seed through his sack as if to summon it forth. He continues to lower his mouth, over and over, until Sora's erection begins to twitch forcefully as each heartbeat sends a new wave of blood rushing through it, firming it with need, to which Cloud responds by running his lips and tongue over every possible inch of skin and vein.

There's no doubt as to what Cloud is planning. He isn't playing for time, not changing up his technique to give a show or to make it last longer. He's trying to bring Sora to climax, and it's working. Sora is conflicted, part of him not understanding why Cloud rejected his own advances only to turn around and do the same thing to him. The other part of him is carried away by this new reality of his cock sliding in and out of Cloud's mouth, of Cloud intentionally stimulating and sucking Sora's tip with his lips, coating him so they slide with perfect softness. Cloud Strife, his companion in this private hell for so long, is tasting Sora's dick, burying his nose into the hairs above it and breathing in the scent of him and, as near as Sora can tell, loving it at least as much as Sora would enjoy doing the same to him.

The blond man is too much for him, and he knows it. Sora doesn't have the experience to hold back. But he doesn't want it to be over, not to let it end already. With the point of no return looming, Sora's hands fly to the back of Cloud's head in a fumbling attempt to control the pace, to delay the cresting ecstasy even a moment longer. Cloud responds by slowing, not stopping. He makes eye contact and Sora can't look away from those glowing, mako-blue orbs as he maintains a steady, inescapable rhythm, repeatedly impressing Sora's most sensitive nerves with the silk sensation of his lips, sucking down again immediately upon clearing the tip, creating unrelenting currents of pleasure that spark through Sora's cock despite the oh-so-slow speed.

Cloud's fingers lightly touch Sora's sack one last time, and the young man's body sides with Cloud, rebelling against Sora with convulsions that again lift his hips off the bed and push the head of his penis deep into Cloud's welcoming mouth. His loins spasm, loosing a stream of his seed compelled from his balls by Cloud's stroking fingers.

That first wave of cum spills into Cloud's throat, deep enough that it might have made Sora choke. The blond man pulls back a bit, which Sora at first believes is to handle the volume. But when the second wave begins to flow into his mouth, Cloud uses the extra space to stroke Sora's frenulum with his tongue just as the cum pours in. The vivid lick, delivered with precise timing during each subsequent spasm, spurs Sora's body to convulse harder, prolonging and thickening each extraction of cum. A mix of moans and wanton cries of pleasure rip from Sora's mouth, as beyond his ability to curb as are his body's reactions to the pleasure his companion-his lover, now-is giving him. Here, in this abyss that is all that's left to them of a once-vast reality, Cloud is making Sora feel things unlike anything he ever felt in his life before their imprisonment. It's also too much for him. His grip tightens on the back of Cloud's head in response and, desperate to stop the additional stimulation, he holds Cloud's head down until he feels the man's nose press against his skin and keeps it there. This leaves him free to relax into the orgasm, letting his body take over and twitch with each release, flooding the back of Cloud's throat with the remainder of his cum.

As the convulsions relinquish their grip on his body and become less frequent, Cloud holds Sora's calming member in his mouth, sucking gently at infrequent intervals as he swallows, eliciting breathless, desperate whimpers from Sora in the process. Once it's all down he lets Sora's tip slip from his lips, then proceeds to lick the last traces of cum from the glistening skin. When he finally returns to Sora's side, he kisses the smaller man deeply. His hand drifts down Sora's thigh, and turns him on his side so he can drape naked against him. After everything they've just been through this simple act should not be noteworthy by comparison, but the intimate position is the perfect complement, warming him in an afterglow of tactile contact.

Sora is a shambles. His limbs lay unresponsive, his heart races. He's also confused.

"What..." Sora begins, struggling to get the words out. "Why...didn't you let me..."

Cloud smiles. "Another time, Sora. I'll look forward to it. But today I want all of you. And it's not just that. This is- this is something new for us. It's going to change things about how we go on from here."

"Yeah but-"

Cloud interrupts him by gathering him in to his chest. "I want to fuck you, Sora. Not just once. Often. And I'm going to love every second of it."

Sora shudders in excitement at those words, despite the calm he feels in the steady comfort of Cloud's strong embrace. He says nothing now, willing to listen as Cloud formulates what he's trying to say.

"I want everything you have to offer. I can't wait to see the things you want to do to me, and for me. I won't lie, the thought of you going down on me, watching you with my dick in your mouth, watching you suck out my cum...it's one of the hottest things I can imagine."

Sora, his face buried in Cloud's chest, can't see the other man smiling as he gives the unnecessarily specific description, but he can hear it in his voice. Cloud knows him so well.

"But this is our first time. I know whatever happens, whatever gifts you give me and my body tonight, it's going to satisfy me completely, and I didn't want our first time to end with us at an imbalance. I don't want it to be you giving me something without me giving you the attention you deserve. Now, in the future if you want me to cum in your mouth every few hours a dozen times in a row, I'll be uncontrollably turned on, and feel nothing but honored to have such a generous lover. But right now, I want us to start making love with the understanding that I feel that same sorts of desire for you, your body, your pleasure and your satisfaction."

Sora curls up and kisses Cloud's chest in acknowledgment. He understands perfectly. He would have understood even if Cloud had allowed him to suck him off and just explained those feelings instead, but the fact that it meant so much to Cloud to show him makes him even more enthralled by the man. His brow furrows. "But now I can't go again, not yet."

"It's okay," Cloud says. "I'm ok. I mean, I've waited this long. I can wait until you're ready again. We're not done here."

Sora smiles against his skin. Cloud's body is solid and smooth, his scent intoxicating. He's the stuff fantasies are made of, the final kind you can be content to spend your life with. Sora understands from the way those arms hold him that here, lying against his body, is Sora's place now. That he can come here whenever he needs Cloud's strength, his warmth, or simply the comfort of pure human touch.

Sora inhales deeply. Cloud bears a vaguely mineral scent he carefully commits to memory. This has to be unique to Cloud. It reminds him a bit of fresh rain on rocks, and he wants to lose himself in it, to breathe the man in deep and be permeated by him.

Cloud's hand wanders around Sora's lower back, drifting luxuriously across the span of his ass, right near the entrance. Sora's stomach churns in anticipation.

"Soon," Cloud says as his index finger finds Sora's center and strokes, causing the brown haired man to cling tighter, closing his eyes to better let his imagination follow the path of Cloud's hand. "But for now, rest."

He pulls his hand away. Sora moans in protest. "I don't want to wait. I don't care if I get there again or not. I want you inside me."

"You're not ready yet anyway," Cloud says, gently pushing Sora to roll over, earning himself another grunt of protest even as Sora complies. He makes up for it when he scoots up behind Sora, their bodies spooning for the second time that night. This time they are naked, however, and Cloud's not-inconsiderable length slots perfectly into the crack of Sora's ass. The skin to skin makes all the difference, and Sora sighs in utter bliss. Still, he pushes his ass deliberately against Cloud's cock, pitiless at the prospect of driving the man into a frenzy. Frenzied Cloud is his new favorite thing.

A low growl from Cloud's chest rumbles his approval. He takes hold of Sora and grinds his rock-hard manhood against his backside, moaning his pleasure both at his own sensations as well as Sora's excited panting. Then his lean, muscled arms enfold Sora, his left snaking around under the smaller man's chest, his right slipping between his thighs from behind. Sora bends his knee up to make room between his legs, and moans as Cloud's fingertips find and begin to explore the region.

This is absurd. There's no way Sora can wait any longer. Cloud will just have to be made to see reason.

"Cloud, if you don't-gah!" he cuts off with a cry as Cloud pushes one saliva-slicked finger inside him, at the same time knocking Sora's reckless overconfidence down to a far humbler peg.

The momentousness of what is happening hits him. Cloud is actually inside him. Not fucking him like a penned bull as he craves so desperately right now, but nevertheless entering his body, pursuing with Sora the greatest intimacy two men could have together. It's his first time ever being penetrated. And god damn does it ever hurt.

Sora bites Cloud's makeshift pillow, determined not to show any discomfort that might deter Cloud's ministrations. Cloud must be feeling Sora contract around his finger hard enough to turn carbon to diamond, but he holds firm and doesn't allow the digit to be pushed out. Hands steady, he cuddles closer against Sora's body and settles in to wait for him to relax.

"This might take a while," Cloud whispers, his voice smoldering. "Like I said, you're not ready yet. But we have nothing but time, and I don't know about you, but there's nothing I'd rather do with it."

* * *

At long last, Cloud's third finger joins the two others inside Sora's body and it's surprisingly comfortable. He's relaxed now, layered with countless applications of saliva, contracting only when Cloud's tender prods, strokes, and scissoring stretches make his cock jump with fresh surges of arousal.

Sora reaches back and rests his palm on Cloud's shaft, revels in the pre-cum he feels there. The man shudders in pleasure. His erection has softened slightly over the time it's been neglected. While Sora can still feel its full length and width in his hand, it no longer stands straight up from Cloud's body.

"I'm ready," Sora says.

Cloud's penis responds, jerking attentively in Sora's hand.

"We should wait just a little-" Cloud begins.

"No, Cloud," Sora says with an assertiveness he has not felt until now. It hardens his tone and brooks no argument. He gingerly pulls away until Cloud's fingers slide out of him, then turns around to face his lover. There's worry on Cloud's face, but also a touch of anticipation and-is he reading that right?-maybe a hint of uncertainty. "Don't. Don't wait any more. I want you to fuck me with this." He strokes Cloud's cock for emphasis, causing the man's hips to buck forward in cooperation.

When Cloud can speak again, he asks one last time, "Are you sure?"

Sora smiles. "I'm about to take you into my mouth and-no, don't interrupt me! Not one fucking word."

Cloud had opened his mouth to object but Sora instantly stops him with a glare and a finger to his lips before continuing. "I'm going to suck your dick. I want to make you wet so you'll slide right in, and because I want to taste this." His thumb flicks over Cloud's tip at the pre-cum there.

Cloud shudders, but remains obediently silent, clearly caught off guard, suddenly unsure what to expect. Sora moves down on him, rolling to his knees in a penitent position between Cloud's bare legs. He positions Cloud's cock under his lips and takes a tentative sip of pre-cum from its tip. Cloud moans, more at the act of Sora tasting him than the contact. Sora had told him he wanted it, and now that fluid is spreading in his mouth, and Cloud's penis stiffening in Sora's hand is evidence of what that thought is doing for him, which Sora knew it would.

This is Sora's game, he realizes in a moment of satisfying sexual self discovery. He knows Cloud so well, and feels sure he knows exactly what to say to get into the man's head and...other parts of his anatomy. He can and will allow Cloud every possible pleasure he can take from his body, but while Sora is fully aware he's a stumbling, fumbling kid when it comes to physical intimacy, he's spent the past several years unknowingly mastering emotional intimacy with Cloud. It would be a shame not to make use of that.

"When I'm done I'm going to straddle you, and you're going to put this into me as far as it will go." He re-positions the hardening cock flat against Cloud's stomach, and places his tongue against the urethra at the base, near Cloud's balls. He traces the line firmly upward, all the way to Cloud's tip. As expected, a thick drop of fresh precum appears at the top, and Sora wraps his mouth around the head to capture it, spreading it onto his tongue and the top of his mouth. He eases the dick from his lips with a soft pop, continuing to lightly stroke as he takes a moment to savor his prize. The pre-cum merges with his saliva, but he swallows deeply anyway, wanting it inside him.

"I know I haven't done this before," Sora goes on, "I know we probably have to go slow at first. So I'll start. I want you to tell me if it feels like too much, if you don't think you can hold back, because I don't want you to cum with me on top." He pauses to lower his head onto the cock again, causing Cloud to squirm. He takes it into his mouth as far as he can. He loves the shape of it, its taste, its heady male scent, and its smoothness. He loves how firm it is, knowing that hardness is a result of the attraction and lust Cloud is feeling for him right now. He delivers several bobs of his head before coming up to speak again.

"When I'm ready, I want you to turn me over. I want you to hold my ass in front of you exactly the way you want it." At this, Cloud lets out an audible sigh, his eyes close as his mind already forms a plan.

Sora drops his voice almost to a whisper. "And then I want you to use this fantastic dick on me, Cloud." He runs the smooth penis against the side of his cheek for emphasis, letting it mark his face with its touch. Above him, Cloud opens his eyes and tilts his head forward to watch the display. His cock jumps at the sight.

"I want you to fuck me with no intention of stopping. I want you to take my whole body and slam me with your cock." He drifts further down and takes first one of Cloud's balls into his mouth and let's it slip from his lips, then the repeats with the other.

"Ah, fuck!" Cloud says, throwing his head back.

"When you can't hold it any longer I want you make me yours. Shoot every bit of your cum into me."

Cloud actually growls at that. He's right where Sora wants him. The bigger man reaches down and tries to haul Sora up by the shoulders to flip him over then and there. Sora grins like a cat with a mouse and resists, pushing him back to the bed so forcefully his breath escapes in a rush. Sora's hand lingers in the middle of Cloud's chest, but he leans in close so Cloud can see his face, and it's his eyes that hold the man down.

"Stay," Sora says, and kisses him. He straddles Cloud's hips, taking a second to give a firm squeeze with his thighs before reaching under the covers to guide Cloud's dick into his body.

After a moment Sora connects his entrance with the tip of Cloud's cock, and he begins to ease himself down atop it. He has to arch his back and experiment a bit to get the angle right, but he's well prepared and Cloud's cock is rock-hard and easy to work with.

For his part, Cloud is laying back in awe, staring at the outline of Sora's body through the darkness. His hands meander, gliding along the angled curve of Sora's hips, over his pecks and across his nipples, then down to his belly. They gravitate inevitably onward, tracing a triangular path to his manhood. One hand takes a casual grip on Sora's erection, the other drifts down to massage his sack. It brings to mind surreal memories from only an short time before, when a similar touch had given him an explosive orgasm. This is different now, however. In this place between satisfied and still craving more, he has no trouble maintaining control.

There's an inch of Cloud inside him now. His entrance adjusts to it. Part of Sora wants to slow down, both for the comfort and to take his time to appreciate the gravity of the moment. This is Cloud having sex with him, after all. This is Cloud's penis, the most coveted, hidden part of his body, and it's Sora's for the taking. Soon the blond man's commanding shaft will be completely sheathed in Sora's ass, touching places inside him nothing and no one has ever touched. The image this brings to his mind is one he'll be dreaming of for days. In his mind's eye that cock doesn't disappear into his ass. He can imagine the way it will fit inside him, extending its pointing tip up into his pelvis. With this image in mind, he barely has to consider the consequences as he pushes down another few inches. There's a wave of pain, but he ignores it.

Cloud responds automatically, pushing up in return, half in excitement, half instinctual reaction to his eager mate, sliding himself in a bit more. Sora reaches down between them and runs his fingertips along the remaining few inches of slick shaft between himself and Cloud. There's enough inside him that he could begin riding it now, but knowing he hasn't yet felt its full length causes him to hold back. Right now all he wants is to know exactly how Cloud fits inside him.

He senses Cloud preparing for another push, and with his jaw set in determination Sora times his own thrust, sinking downward to meet him.

The rest of Cloud's cock slips fully inside him. They both gasp, and Sora locks his legs under Cloud's thighs, holding fast to the complete connection even as he collapses against Cloud's chest, panting with relief. Cloud's arms wrap around him and hold him close, letting him adjust, even though Sora can feel the man's heart pounding, ready for more.

They lie this way for a few minutes, kissing with soft, quiet kisses, both of their minds brimming with each other and the experience of their bodies connected. They are one, now, both of them finally basking in the fullness of a void neither had realized could ever be filled, one that had grown in both of them since they had come to this place.

Cloud's hand finds Sora's face and coaxes the trembling man to meet his glowing blue eyes. In the most sober tone Sora has ever heard from him, he says, "Sora, you are absolutely perfect to me."

Sora flushes and leans in to kiss him again, seeking the other man's tongue with his own. They drink each other in through that kiss until, when they part, their eyes communicate a different need. Without a word, Sora lifts himself up until just before he thinks Cloud will slip free, then lowers back down, relishing in exquisite detail the reverberations of Cloud's cock moving through him. Cloud works in tandem, and when he's all the way inside again he grinds in small motions against Sora, not thrusting in, but moving his cock inside him, letting his penis massage those depths, making Sora feel his presence there. Sora imagines Cloud still leaking pre-cum, the smooth fluid from the other man's body coating Sora's channel. His back arches into the sex Cloud gives him. His eyes squeeze shut and his smiling mouth opens to breathe.

Sora leans back and plants his hands on Cloud's chest. Again Sora pulls up a little, then rides back down, and then again, tentatively testing a rhythm. Cloud lets out another growl, his hand tightening on Sora's thigh, but he respects Sora's control of their pace.

Delighting in the process, Sora gradually finds a flow of continuous motion, gyrating on the thick, iron-like shaft filling him from entrance to belly. The thrusts aren't long, but they're deep, the brushes of cock against Sora's insides sending repeated pulses of pleasure running through him. Cloud holds Sora's dick, his thumb tracing the veins as it swells in his hand each time Cloud's cock impacts Sora's prostate. Sora hopes Cloud is feeling how that tangible reaction is entirely a testament to Cloud's own dick. He wants Cloud to know how powerful the magnificent thing is, how much it's doing for him. He resolves to tell him all about it later, just to be sure.

Sora holds that pace and motion until his muscles grow weak and his whole nervous system feels like it's stuck on overdrive. His gyrations wane, then halt altogether. Cloud meets Sora's delirious gaze and, as if seeing some cue he's been waiting for, one known only to him, he takes control. Cloud wraps his arms around Sora's back and springs forward onto his knees, carrying Sora along for the ride. Their blankets fall to the floor and their combined body heat enters a pitched battle against the chill, but neither man can spare it any attention.

Cloud straightens on his knees, holding Sora aloft. Sora wraps his arms around Cloud's neck, one hand grabbing a fistful of blond hair, and holds on for dear life. He can feel every muscle in the warrior's torso tighten and flex with masculine perfection. He's perched on the man's lap, impaled to the hilt on his cock, his own erection pressing between their bodies where it can rub against Cloud's washboard abs with every shift and thrust.

Cloud hooks an arm under Sora's knee, lifting him up just enough to deliver a long, greedy thrust. Sora's eyes pop open in shock, his mouth agape. Cloud pauses for a second to absorb Sora's reaction, then pulls back, almost all the way out, and pounds a second full length of male need up into him. The cock lashes Sora's prostate, and he feels the skin of Cloud's belly grow slick with a burst of Sora's cum forced out prematurely. Gods but the man is huge.

Cloud continues that way for several more thrusts, taking his time with each one, establishing his dominance, studying Sora's face as he masterfully administers every inch of his irresponsibly large dick. At last he pulls Sora close with hands that glide up his spine, and looks up into his eyes.

"Do you still want my cum inside you, Sora?" he asks.

They both know the answer. Both know the other knows. But it's also something they both want to hear.

Sora clings to him, nuzzling in close around his neck, and whispers into his ear.

"Pump it into me as deep as you can."

Sora isn't sure exactly what Cloud does next. He registers only that one moment he's perched on his lover's lap, and the next his elbows hit the flour sacks, the twin curves of his rear angled upward and spread invitingly apart. Cloud's hands hold him where hips meet spread thighs, maneuvering his ass in front of his throbbing penis like a target. Sora's cock hangs hard at attention, pointing diagonally downward between his legs.

The ex-Soldier is so strong Sora's knees barely touch the bed. Understanding what's coming, Sora presses his chest into the bedding, holding on as Cloud pulls his ass to the head of his cock. Cloud takes hold of his own shaft at the base, using the grip to dip his cock into Sora several times, a few plunging deeper than the others. Sora watches Cloud out of the corner of his eye, sees him indulge in the sight of Sora's body merging with his own, watching his cock part Sora's entrance to different depths.

With the playful probing, Sora notices a change come over Cloud. He's not seen it before, but he recognizes it at once, having anticipated and craved it. It's a shift in the man's focus and resolve. The moment when he's decided, unconsciously or otherwise, that he's taken care of Sora's needs to the best of his ability, and what is about to happen next is his own reward. This is the moment Sora wanted to rush to in the very beginning, one all about what Sora's body can do for Cloud. His hand returns to Sora's hip and without hesitation he rams his whole cock deep into Sora's ass in a single thrust.

Cloud's manhood fills Sora completely, in more ways than one. There's a fraction of a second when Cloud holds the penetration before repeating the thrust. His hips buck, thighs smacking into the back of Sora's again and again as Cloud willfully uses Sora's body to build his climax. The impacts rattle Sora's teeth, slamming him forward and down into the bed so that he has to push back against each one to keep from losing his purchase, which only makes Cloud's shaft split him that much harder.

Every time Cloud pushes in Sora is nearly overwhelmed by the insistent need behind it. Cloud's primal desire to take him, to claim Sora's body and soul in a way no man ever has before, is telegraphed in every thrust. But it's also a need for Cloud's own satiation, to release what has to be a fountain of built up seed after such monumentally prolonged abstention, and he wants specifically to let it all flow into Sora. Sora falls into an urgent rhythm at the thought, helping Cloud thrust faster and harder. His other hand finds his own cock and begins to stroke.

Cloud's pace picks up, all semblance of restraint evaporates in the wake of carnal indulgence. He watches his thick shaft plow between the two inner curves of Sora's ass, sliding swiftly in and out, then his eyes drift over Sora's lithe body splayed prostrate before him. Sora can tell that in his mind he's fucking not only Sora's tight backside, but his entire young, gangling form.

Sora strokes a few dozen times, then stops and merely holds on. Every thrust, every welcome, yearned-for invasion of Cloud's penis is hitting his prostate now, and there's no need to help it along. He can feel the tip of Cloud's cock create his orgasm from within. An abrupt nova of pleasure radiates through him, wracking his body. Thick ribbons of cum begin to blast from him, a few lines shooting all the way to his wrists and chin as his dick spasms, slapping up into his stomach in time with the conquering occupation of Cloud's manhood. The remaining spurts, ejected from his body by his lover one thrust at a time, pool below him on the makeshift bed. It's only after the orgasm is reduced to a strand of cum dangling like a loose thread from his still-hard tip that he realizes the ecstatic screams he's been hearing are his own.

"I'm ready," Sora yells. "Come. Come inside me. I want it now, I want all of it. Give me your dick, Cloud. Give me your lust. Oh, Cloud. Cloud, I need your cum." He flings his ass back into Cloud with wild abandon, desperate to receive his mate's climax and become the instrument of his pleasure.

Remembering what Cloud did to him, on an impulse he reaches back and cradles Cloud's balls, lifting them upward whenever a thrust brings them close enough for him to do so. Cloud's head flings back and throaty cries begin to escape his lips. He thrusts a few more times-slow, hard, deliberate-and Sora feels the man's sack tighten. With a final, titanic thrust, Cloud plunges his dick as far into Sora as it will go and begins to shudder. His already tight balls contract. Sora massages them gently. The first burst releases a powerful jet of pressure that travels up Cloud's length so forcefully that Sora can feel its rush where his entrance clings to Cloud's shaft even before it erupts inside him. Cloud begins to thrust with each wave, crying out each time the head of his cock delivers a fresh explosion of seed, shooting geysers of hot cum into Sora's previously unclaimed ass.

_It's happening. Finally, he's mine_.

A trickle of fluid begins to flow from Sora's hole as excess cum escapes around Cloud's shaft. It runs down Sora's balls and begins to drip to the bed beneath them, mixing with Sora's. Sora withdraws his hand from the source between Cloud's legs and runs it along the back of his own balls, catching a thick, white streak on his finger.

"Deeper," Sora croaks as he sucks the cum from his finger and holds it on his tongue, delighting in the taste of the man he loves.

Cloud leans forward, his chest nearly touching Sora's back. One of Cloud's hands grasps his shoulder like a lifeline. Cloud uses the grip to pull Sora's body into him as he delivers his final thrusts, sinking his iron-like shaft into Sora to the base and pouring the remaining contents of his balls within, forcibly mingling his masculine essence with the farthest reaches of Sora's being. Sora arches his back, leaving no doubt as to the acceptance of his man's seed, letting his head fall all the way back to Cloud's bare shoulder. When Cloud shudders one last time and allows his spent penis to come to rest in Sora's depths, they're touching cheek to cheek, their lungs heaving.

With a diminished whimper, Cloud collapses against Sora's back, only barely catching himself enough to keep from crushing Sora beneath him. Sora smiles and nuzzles against Cloud's wilting neck.

Sora starts to pull away, intending to turn over and lay down, but Cloud abruptly straightens, holding him fast.

"Wait," he says hoarsely. He runs his hands across Sora's ass, caressing it with admiration, then slowly lets his cock slip out. The abundant stream of cum immediately resumes its flow down Sora's balls.

_He wants to see his cum in my ass_, Sora thinks, and a wave of affection for the man washes over him. Then a hand runs along his entrance, pressing down to stop the flow, and Cloud gathers him up along with the fallen blankets and gently turns Sora around as he lays down. He pulls the smaller man atop him, and Sora happily snuggles into his chest. His hand doesn't leave Sora's throbbing entrance until they lie still, then it shifts to hold his waist in place protectively.

"I want it to stay inside you, as much as it can," he explains quietly. There's a great deal of emotion in his voice. For a second Sora thinks it might crack. "I don't even know why. It just feels..."

"...right," Sora finishes for him. He feels Cloud's chin in his hair as the man nods.

They lie in silence for a few minutes, letting their heart rates fall and sync up with one another. In that moment, Sora never wants to move again. He ponders, amused, that he technically doesn't have to, not in a place without hunger or thirst, where time has stopped. Finally, Cloud speaks up.

"I meant what I said before. I'm going to want to take you over and over again. Next time we can go slow and gentle, just laying here, if you want. I can hold you in my arms the whole time. I want to make you cum with my mouth again, too. I want you to wake me up with your mouth and suck me, then let me watch as I cum on your tongue. I want you here against me like this whenever we go to sleep. You can fuck me sometimes, too, whenever you want. I- I don't think I'll ever get enough of you, Sora."

Sora smiles, listening to Cloud's heart. "That suits me just fine." His hand drifts down between Cloud's legs, not with any particular agenda except to feel that intimate softness again. A couple hours ago Sora had never known this part of the man, was not welcome to touch him here. He cups the now exhausted cock in his hand, cradling it and his lover's balls affectionately. The contact draws a deep sigh from Cloud, and Sora decides to leave his hand there indefinitely tonight.

Sora rests, warm and safe in Cloud's gentle embrace, content and pleasantly sore, imaging new possibilities. He closes his eyes and as he drifts asleep he fantasizes of all the incredible ways they will explore each other before the end inevitably comes.

**/Afterword**

**Thank you for reading. I hope you've enjoyed this story. It's the only piece of fan fiction I've ever produced, though I've developed many original works of fiction over the years. I have, however, enjoyed many similar works on this site over the years, and decided to post this for others like me searching for similar content. Words of affirmation are my love language, so by all means please do leave a review if this piece has an impact on you, as long or as short as you like. I'm a perfectionist, too, so any corrections are also welcome.**


	2. Chapter 2: Without a Word

Cloud lies with Sora nestled in the crook of his arm. The young man's naked body runs along Cloud's own like a silk blanket, face to chest, thigh to thigh and foot to foot, as much of their skin touching as possible. Under the covers, Sora's palm rests gently on Cloud's manhood, now a partial erection, where he'd held it as he fell asleep. In the years they've been trapped together, Cloud doesn't think he's ever seen the man rest this peacefully.

While Sora's exhaustion has rendered him practically comatose, Cloud's mind is awash in the memories of their sex from the...what is it? The day before? Night before? It has been some time, is all he knows for sure. Images fill his mind of Sora's body bowed before him, enthralling him. The sound of Sora's whispered words, his needs that seemed so specific. The way Cloud felt his desires in the actions of his body and the looks in his eyes. The way he wanted _Cloud_. Cloud's body, Cloud's affection, Cloud's sex. Cloud has never felt anything like it, or been so consumed by another human being.

He relives those moments dozens of times, his dick hardening occasionally. Sometimes Sora wakes groggy, feels the arousal, and gives his cock a little squeeze before drifting off again. Cloud wants him to rest, to come around in his own time, but he also can't help the way his body craves Sora. He can't help wanting to take him again, right now, in the first of many, many repeat encounters.

Careful not to wake his lover, Cloud reaches between two flour sacks under the "bed" with the hand not holding Sora's ass, and retrieves the master magic materia he keeps there. It glows brightly at his touch as its dozens of spells enter his awareness. He considers a minor cure spell, then casts it with an easy force of will first on Sora, then on himself. Any lingering feelings of physical exhaustion leave his body, and while Sora doesn't wake, he knows it's done the same for the young man. This is an old trick Aerith taught him. The woman had been insatiable in bed, and possessed such a gift with healing magic that she'd never had to take no for an answer.

Before he puts the materia back, Cloud re-casts the Stop spell that keeps them frozen in time, for good measure. He feels the usual spike of guilt in his gut as he does so. It's the one secret he keeps from Sora, now. When the cold became pernicious Sora went to a dark place, realizing their doom. Cloud had searched through the repertoire of spells available to him, and since fire would take too much magical energy to maintain, this is the only way he'd found to help. He keeps them halted in time, preventing the cold from becoming worse, or either of them aging.

One day, if they ever get out of here, it will mean they can resume their lives without having lost quite so much of it to age. But he's afraid Sora won't see it that way. Even if they get free, everything they knew will have changed. Their loved ones will be older, or dead. Their worlds moved on without them. Sora has always been the one to bring up the idea of diving into the abyss, of ending the torment on their own terms. He hasn't yet because he would never leave Cloud alone here, however helpless he feels for himself. As it is, Sora accepts the fact that they've stopped aging in stride with all the other magical workings in this strange place. Cloud fears if Sora knows he is the one controlling it, the other man will want him to stop.

_But maybe that was before we made love_, Cloud considers. Will this new phase in their relationship give him a better reason to hold on?

Cloud hopes so as he returns the materia to its place. He resolves for that to be his goal every time he touches Sora, every time he makes love to him. To treat him with the kind of respect and care and value that will make him want to go on living. To be enough for the man when everything else is lost. After all, it's certainly true of the way Sora makes Cloud feel.

His cock hardens with need. Sora _wants_ Cloud inside him, wants to make Cloud experience the release only he can give. He wants them to be connected. Cloud can't imagine a bigger turn on. Cloud absently runs his fingers along the small of Sora's back and down into the cleft of his ass. He imagines his dick there, and the way Sora will happily receive it. It's a touch he's made many times since they lay here, but this time, in the wake of the cure spell, Sora stirs.

Sora's grip closes around Cloud's hardening penis and gives it a few affectionate strokes. Cloud groans, causing Sora to smile. His eyes remain closed, but he sinks under the covers and, holding the cock at the base, guides it to his mouth. Sora's kisses begin at the side and travel down to Cloud's balls. His tongue explores Cloud's sack for a minute, taking in the texture of him, then he kisses his way back up the length of the shaft, his lips pausing at the tip to give extra attention to the precum there. His tongue makes circles around the head, causing Cloud to moan until he gives in and takes it fully into his mouth.

He devours the cock several times before letting it come to rest as deep as he can in his throat, then proceeds to explore every inch of skin in his mouth with his tongue. By the time his head comes up and Cloud feels him turning over, Cloud's whole cock is slick with saliva, a fact not lost on Sora as he positions his ass where Cloud can enter.

Concerned at the relative lack of preparation, Cloud is careful even as he obliges the deliciously horny young man. His reaches around and holds Sora by the flat triangle of flesh above the man's dick, using the leverage to push slowly into him. As before, Sora's ass is incredibly tight, possibly even more so in this position, lying spooned on their sides.

Perhaps Sora is still relaxed from last time, because despite the tightness Cloud slips into him much easier than before. Anxious to touch him more, to be even closer to him, Cloud wraps his other arm around his chest, holding their bodies together as his grip leaves Sora's stomach and moves to catch the smaller man's leg under the knee, lifting it and holding it aloft until the pressure eases around his cock and he can begin to slide inside his lover.

They make love softly, Cloud careful to measure each thrust, trying to maintain as much contact, as much sensation as possible without hurrying. He doesn't care if this takes forever, especially considering they have forever at their disposal. Sora is receptive to him, holding himself in place both against Cloud's chest and leaning into the repeated occupation of Cloud's cock.

Cloud shifts his hold from Sora's knee, exploring the rise of his thigh, then the place where his thin hip forms a perfect handle. Cloud keeps the motion of his cock gentle, yet strong, his thrusts mindful of Sora's body, yet also insistent.

Sora's breaths sync with the rocking of their bodies, and he lets out small, audible catches each time Cloud's cock fills him. He reaches up to cup a hand at the back of Cloud's head, pulling them together until Cloud's lips brush his neck. Cloud begins to canvas that sensitive skin with kisses as his hand finds Sora's balls. He strokes between them, then runs two deft fingers up Sora's shapely, effortlessly perky little cock. He grips it in his hand, appreciating the purity of its need. It stands straight up from the man's body, swaying with Cloud's thrusts but otherwise firm in place, its tip swollen and hardened in a shapely, raging arrow that stands ready to yield the proof of Sora's pleasure into Cloud's hand and across his fingers.

Cloud begins to lovingly stroke the other man's cock, excited to feel that release. The catches in Sora's breaths turn into little cries of pleasure. Cloud feels a surge of adoration for this man, and thinks, not for the first time, how well their bodies fit together, how easily their relationship has evolved into a physical one.

The hand that had held Cloud's neck slips down behind his ass, distracting him from his reveries. Sora doesn't try to alter Cloud's pace, but his grip is firm, encouraging each thrust into him. Cloud marvels at the man's ability to communicate so much without a single word. That hand tells Cloud something Sora shouted to him the last time they made love, that the young man wants his cum. Sora, this incredible, beautiful man, wants Cloud to release his orgasm within him at least as much as Cloud yearns to spill it there.

Cloud tenderly increases the pace of strokes on Sora's cock, relishing the way the skin slips over the tip beneath his hand, and the way Sora's body stiffens at the change in speed. Even though Cloud can feel his own pleasure mounting at the luxurious comfort of Sora's ass enveloping his cock and the deliberate way the man is coaxing him on, he's determined to bring his lover to climax first.

With one hand still firmly holding onto Cloud's ass, Sora takes the hand on his chest and brings it to his mouth.

_What's he doing_? Cloud thinks as Sora takes his middle finger in his mouth and sucks, hard. The young man's tongue repeatedly strokes the pad of his fingertip, and Cloud's mind is flooded with fantasies of his cock receiving that same attention.

_No, no no_! Cloud feels his orgasm approaching suddenly, building far faster than he can possibly do anything about. Left with no other option, he thrusts harder, penetrating deep into Sora as his pleasure peaks. Finally, with intentional lust, Cloud pushes all the way in and stays there, aided by Sora's hand tenaciously holding him, and rides the waves of ecstasy as he loses control and his body begins to pump his pleasure into his lover's depths.

Cloud can feel the tip of his cock pressed tight against Sora's prostate as the first burst of cum rushes out, forcefully flooding the already tight space. Sora's moan of profound arousal signals he can feel the seed find its home within him. As before, Cloud can hold nothing back as his manhood pulses again, again, again, releasing half a dozen streams into Sora. That hot channel that only moments before had tightly sheathed his cock now becomes slick and full with his cum.

As the orgasm subsides, Cloud notices wetness across the fingers of the hand he's using to stroke Sora, and realizes with surprise that the other man is panting much the same as he. He's climaxed, too, and Cloud hadn't even noticed. He'd felt Sora's ass contract around him, vaguely, but had been too consumed in the moment to understand the implication.

For his part, Sora lays pressed against him in contentment. Cloud's right biceps serve as Sora's pillow, and that use of his body makes him feel strong and cherished, giving him a sense of pride in how safe he makes Sora feel.

While his cock is content, wholly satisfied, it's still hard inside Sora. As Cloud begins to pull out, however, Sora locks his grip on Cloud's ass, keeping him in place until Cloud gets the message. Cloud pushes his dick back in, content to let it rest there, then nuzzles the side of Sora's neck with soft kisses. Without a word, Sora removes his hand and rests it on Cloud's forearm in front of his face, preparing to go back to sleep.

Cloud cuddles him from behind, face resting behind his head, enjoying the scent of him with every breath. He knows his cock will slide out in time as his erection eventually softens, but for now he relishes the quiet permanence of feeling his satisfied manhood fill that special place inside Sora without any compulsion to move in _or_ out. It allows him time to consider and really appreciate all the deep, primal feelings that come with that connection, and he realizes Sora must have known it's something he needed even before he had.

Cloud considers Sora in a new light, his mind recounting each step of their intimacy so far, and the way Sora has somehow created a dichotomy between them. In the beginning he'd taken the initiative, and despite Cloud taking over, had never truly yielded it back. Cloud had taken back control, it's true, dominating the man in a way that surprised even him, but when he really thought about it each step had been in response to cues from Sora, some of which were subtle, some anything but. Just now he'd thought he was in control, that he'd known how that particular mile of their intimate journey would go, but in the end Sora had still effortlessly undermined and overwhelmed him, taking his climax into his own hands as though it were his to do with as he pleased. Cloud has left him satisfied, it's true, but despite it being ostensibly Cloud's choices and actions that have driven him there, in the end Cloud still feels, as before, that their lovemaking is somehow Sora taking exactly what he wants from him. The thought of Sora somehow flipping the script, manipulating even the act of Cloud taking him from behind into a fulfillment of his own desires by his own deliberate agency fascinates and intoxicates him.

And yet...and yet Sora is also fulfilling needs in Cloud he clearly recognizes and understands better than Cloud does himself. He's an intriguing lover, and Cloud is struck by how many intimate wonders and surprises must still lie ahead for them. Already, in the perfect satisfied afterglow of the love they've just made, Cloud cannot wait to fuck Sora again.

Cloud's cock finally slips out of Sora's body, and he sighs as his own seed leaks out, sealing their bodies together. He spoons his spent penis into the cleft of Sora's ass where it can stay until they're ready to go again. Unlike last time, he feels sleep encroach on the back off his mind, and knows he won't lie awake again.

To his surprise, however, the vague impression he'd mistook for weariness expands rapidly in his mind, and before he can even begin to resist it overcomes him, wrenching away his grasp on his own consciousness.

**/Afterword**

**Again, thank you for reading, and I hope you're still enjoying the story, and...other things ;). I'm pantsing this one, which is a strange, dangerous feeling, like driving a car without insurance. I haven't really written something without an outline/treatment/world and character building since I was a teenager, so while I have a vague idea of what I want to happen, I'm curious myself to see where this goes. **


	3. Chapter 3: Enough

**Trigger Warning: This one's a bit rapey. Also, my sincere apologies to Seifer fans. While I appreciate a good redemption arc as much as the next person, I gotta say I felt he was still quite unstable at the end of FFVIII, and always imagined him heading off the deep end.**

* * *

Cloud is lost in blackness, bereft of all senses except the feeling of being in motion. He's spinning on every axis at once, falling and flying at the same time. He can't track any direction.

Blinding light replaces the darkness as his world reorients. Daylight, he realizes. It's ordinary daylight flooding through several windows along the far wall of an expansive bedchamber, but to his unaccustomed eyes it might as well be lasers shining right into his corneas. He tries to shut his eyes, but they won't respond. He's lost and confused, but dead certain of one thing: this is no dream.

His view crosses the threshold into the room. His vision pans around, falling first on the plush chairs, a divan and dressers, then the fireplace with its crackling, fake digital fire, and on to a spacious, tiled glass shower. It comes to rest on a large bed and lingers there. Cloud feels an inexplicable rush of anxiety at the sight. His skin feels vulnerable, like there's not enough protection. He wants his armor.

_I'm inside someone's head,_ Cloud thinks.

"You two wait here. Admiral Almasy will be back soon." Cloud's vision turns in response to the words. A soldier in a uniform unlike any Cloud has ever seen before is giving him a leering smirk as he closes the door.

Another man is now in view across from him, dressed entirely different from the soldier. He's young, no more than twenty, with black hair, tan skin, and two bands tattooed around one arm. Cloud can make out the tattoos clearly through his long sleeves because the bright silver garment he wears is sheer above the belt line. A slight seam holds it closed down his front, though Cloud can't make out any zipper or buttons, and it tapers into a point at the man's flat lower stomach in a way clearly intended to draw focus to his crotch. The stylistically cut robe that drapes the rest of him is equally impractical, with wavy, uneven flaps of fabric which, while opaque, leave plenty of sight lines from his thighs to his bare feet.

These observations are all Cloud's, however, because the host he inhabits barely glances at the man before his gaze darts fretfully back to the bed. His breathing picks up, on its way to panicked hyperventilation.

"Take a deep breath, my friend," said the other man. Cloud's view flits back to him as he steps into the room and heads toward the divan. "It's better if you don't let him see you afraid. It...puts him in a mood." The man motions at the divan, indicating that Cloud should lie down, which his host does without question.

"What am I going to have to do?" the voice is terrified, if anything even younger than the other man's and it comes from Cloud himself.

"Anything he wants," the man's expression darkens for a moment before he recovers and begins to arrange Cloud's limbs on the divan. Cloud feels the touch to his host's body before the man looks down. He's wearing the same exploitative outfit as the other man, though his skin is far darker, at least as black as Barret's back home. Unlike Barret his body is thin, lithe as a snake and just as nubile. The other man fusses with him until he lays languidly across the divan, a cylindrical pillow under one arm, his limbs arranged in appealing lines, careless and forgotten in an effortlessly artistic pose.

He's talking all the while. "It's best not to chat much. He never takes long to get here, and you don't want him to hear us through the door. We're here for him, and while we're here he needs to see that he's our entire focus-remember that."

Finally, the man cups a hand behind Cloud's head and forces him to meet his eyes. "Listen, I won't tell you not to worry, but please just trust me. I've been where you are right now. Follow my lead, and I'll help you get through this."

The man stands and gives Cloud's host a final, satisfied once-over, then pads to the rug in front of the fire, stepping silently but swiftly as the sound of heavy booted feet nearing the room comes from outside. He lays down on his stomach, knees bent and legs crossed in the air, his head propped on the palm of one hand as he stares into the fire, the picture of a man consumed with waiting for whoever is about to walk through that door.

Cloud's trembling host's attention is fixed on the door when it opens and a man walks in. He's wearing a gray trench coat over a navy blue vest with silver lining. A chain around his neck holds a dog tag. Admiral Almasy, Cloud assumes.

Cloud examines the man, committing as many details to memory as he can. He tries to imagine how he would draw the coat on paper, noticing in the process that it has a dark brown stain across the front. The man's face is hard. He's not terribly old, perhaps recently forty, and might have been good-looking once, with neatly groomed mousey-blond hair and a particularly wicked old scar that runs from the bridge of his nose up into his brow. But his nose has been broken, and poorly set, while numerous newer, white scars pock mark his face around his lips and eyes where, by all appearances, someone must have beaten him to within an inch of his life. He's tall and strong, though not excessively stocky. He looks like he's seen combat, but Cloud gets the feeling he could easily take him in a fair fight.

Almasy strides into the room and pauses to take it in, releasing the long sigh of a man who has come to the end of a long day. Cloud's host remains frozen in place, overcome by fear, but Cloud is struck by the way Almasy ignores both men to an unnatural degree. He gives them exactly the same attention he pays to one of the end tables, or the bed. He walks to one of the chairs, sits, and begins to untie his boots. He's at the edge of Cloud's line of sight now, but his host doesn't dare follow him with his eyes.

"Come here, Ryne, I need a shower," Almasy says without looking up. The host's gaze flits to the man at the fireplace in time to see him roll over and pick himself seductively off of the thick rug. He saunters over to Almasy with a distinctly different walk than he used before the Admiral was in the room. Cloud doesn't know why he bothers-Almasy still hasn't so much as looked his way. Without a word he bends and helps the man remove his boots and socks.

"Who's the new one?" Almasy asks him, his thumb flicking at Cloud.

"M-Mel, sir," the host says. Almasy frowns at this, and a subtle side glance from Ryne warns him not to say anything more.

"His name is Melchior," Ryne says, gathering the pair of boots together and setting them off to the side. He begins to unzip Almasy's vest. Cloud realizes the stain he noticed before is dried blood. A quick search reveals flakes of it on the burgundy gloves the man is tugging off, too. "He was brought in a few weeks ago, and Doctor Tong thinks he'll make a good fit with me, once he's trained up a bit."

"Melchior...Seagill? The one from the Esthar raid?"

"Yes."

There's something inhuman about the way Ryne talks about them. Like he's a bookend whose twin fell to the floor and broke, and Melchior is the replacement piece. Ryne crosses around the Admiral to help him shrug off his coat and vest. Ryne folds them and sets them neatly atop a dresser.

Almasy grunts in disinterest and stands. He allows Ryne to undo his fly and pull the rest of his clothes to the floor. He steps out of them and strides naked to the shower's glass door, pausing there to wait for Kyne to put them away. When the young man catches up, he swings open the shower door and walks inside.

"Bring him, then," he calls back. "Might as well get started."

Kyne catches Cloud's eye and gestures with his chin for Melchior to come with them. Melchior stands and reaches for his robe, but Kyne walks into the shower without disrobing, so after a moment's hesitation Melchior follows suit, closing the door behind him.

Almasy stands under the broad, square shower head that hangs straight down from the ceiling while Kyne turns on the water using a touch screen on the wall. He grabs two oversize sponges and a bar of soap as a thousand jets begin to rain down onto Almasy's head. Immediately a stream of steaming red-stained water begins to flow down his torso to drain in the center of the floor. The gaze of Cloud's host fixes on Almasy's chest as the blood stain dissolves until Kyne shoves a soaped sponge roughly into his chest with a warning glare. He begins to scrub down the Admiral's body, indicating with his face and eyes that Melchior should do likewise.

Almasy himself begins to shampoo his hair as Melchior begins to lather his legs. Kyne starts with his back and shoulders. Cloud notices that as they work Kyne's clothing becomes soaked, and the thin fabric clings to every inch of his body like a sheer, silver second skin. The shape of Kyne's nipples, muscles, navel and groin are perfectly exhibited. He figures his host is likely the same.

Melchior works his way up Almasy's body and Kyne works down, and they meet in the middle. Melchior hesitates again but Kyne leads by example, shamelessly running his sponge over the Admiral's hips and thighs, so Melchior begins to do the same on the other side. Cloud notices that Kyne's movements, while economical up to now, slow down, and he places one hand on the inside of Almasy's thigh as though for leverage to scrub the man's ass, but it isn't truly needed. Not by coincidence, it's at this moment Cloud notices the man's dangling cock begin to swell and lengthen.

Kyne catches Melchior's eye and points to the penis meaningfully with his eyes. Melchior nods and begins to gently scrub it with his sponge. He cleans it thoroughly, sponging from side to side around the member as Kyne pays similar attention to the man's ass. When Melchior is done Kyne catches his eye again, then drops his sponge to the floor and returns his hand to Almasy's ass to run his soapy fingers down the crack, massaging the suds into the skin behind his balls and around his hole. Melchior gulps, drops his own sponge and gingerly takes the man's cock between his hands before risking a quick glance up at Almasy's face.

Through it all, Almasy stands beneath the shower, eyes closed, allowing the steaming water to run into his hair, down his face, and over his body. His only reaction to the two men ministering to him is the slow growth of his cock in Melchior's hands. Cloud can feel it, too. He watches through his host's eyes as Melchior runs his fingers around the man's balls, cradling them while his other hand takes the cock and strokes it to the tip, lifting it straight then letting it sink back down when his grip returns to the base. The cock continues to stiffen, and as Melchior strokes it begins to lift on its own, its tip swelling in front of the young man's eyes. When the slit firms Melchior looks away in disgust, no doubt easily imagining that tip spitting the man's white fluids across his face and chin.

Kyne's eyes flash a warning. He glances up to make sure Almasy's eyes are closed, then his hand snakes out and reaches between Melchior's legs. It's the first time Cloud becomes aware that his host's dick is completely flaccid, consumed as he is by fear and panic. Kyne massages him urgently, but breaks away in a flash when he feels Almasy shift.

Almasy steps forward, his cock now fully erect and swinging ahead of him. He holds out his arms as Kyne rushes to turn off the water and fetch a large towel from a rack on the door. Working together the two men swiftly dry him off and he steps out into the room. Seemingly on impulse, Melchior spots a robe hanging from a nearby hook, hurriedly takes it and walks behind Almasy so he can put it on.

Almasy raises a single eyebrow at him as he shrugs on the robe, but doesn't tie it. He takes a seat in one of the chairs and begins to pour himself a drink from a decanter on a table beside him as Kyne catches up to Melchior. They are both still wet, and there's a fearful look in Kyne's eyes. He unobtrusively takes Melchior by the arms and rotates him so that his back is to Almasy, takes his face in both hands, then gently kisses his mouth.

For the first time, Cloud feels a spark of life between Melchior's legs.

"He has to see that you want him," Kyne says, barely breathing out the words so only Melchior can hear. Kyne leans back; his finger drifts to the neckline of his useless clothing. He inserts one finger underneath the fabric and pulls down as though scraping it off. The tiny magnetic strip parts silently at his touch, the fabric peeling away in the wake of his finger to reveal in stark nakedness his collarbone, the inner edges of his pecks, his abdominal muscles, his navel, and down, down further to just above his groin, a shadow of trimmed hairs.

His hand drops to his side, and he stands still, waiting. Melchior stares at him only a moment, mesmerized, before it dawns on him that it is now his move. He takes hold of the feeble clothes and peels them down Kyne's muscled arms. The moment they clear his wrists the unsupported bottom half of the garment drops to the floor, leaving Kyne presenting before him, eyes locked on him, the man's cock standing at attention, pointing straight to Melchior.

Kyne's hand reaches up again, this time to the hollow of Melchior's neck, and he repeats the motion to undress Cloud's host. Blood courses through the young man's groin now, and when the silver fabric drops to the floor Melchior's cock springs free, its tip meeting Kyne's in the space between them.

Kyne breathes an almost imperceptible sigh of relief when he sees the eager young dick at full mast. He rotates Melchior again, this time to face Almasy, who is watching them now, drink in hand, his own cock still standing hard and ready between his legs. Kyne puts Melchior on display. Cloud can feel him behind his host, his dick brushing the terrified man's back, no doubt to encourage his continued arousal. Kyne's hands wile around to the front of Melchior's body, framing him. He splays one hand, fingers wide, across the man's chest. The other slinks down to his groin and forms an upside down V over Melchior's cock.

Almasy watches them, his face neither disapproving nor favoring. He is thoughtful, as though considering the merits of well-bred hounds. He takes a sip of his drink, then nods toward the divan, spinning his finger with his free hand.

Kyne instantly guides Melchior to the divan. Following the other man's prompting touches, Melchior lays down with his head on the side without an arm and Kyne climbs carefully atop him, facing his feet. Kyne's balls brush his nose and Cloud can smell the scent of his musk as Melchior's hands find purchase on the man's thighs and his tongue reaches out to taste.

Kyne sits there upright for a few minutes letting Melchior explore his balls with his mouth. Cloud can feel Melchior lose himself in pleasing Kyne, the way the act of kissing, licking, tasting, smelling and seeing the man he is undeniably attracted to allows him to put Almasy out of his mind. He takes each testicle in his mouth, softly to keep from hurting Kyne. As they slip from his lips he kisses between them and around them, probably imaging the cum inside under pressure, ready to spurt out in reaction to the pleasure Melchior can give. He inches down and begins to kiss the base of Kyne's cock.

Kyne moans at the touch of Melchior's mouth, but Cloud senses a measure of control in him, as though he's cautious not to appear to enjoy someone who isn't Almasy too much. As Melchior moves on to his cock Kyne leans forward to give him easier access and also begins to kiss Melchior's dick.

The moment the man's lips brush Melchior's cock for the first time, Cloud feels his excitement mount. Melchior moans and slips his hand up to Kyne's dick so he can aim it down into his mouth and feel its base with his fingers at the same time. There's a glimmer of hope inside him, like a situation that has become unsalvageable might prove worthwhile after all.

A shadow passes over them. Almasy is standing at the edge of the divan, the underside of his cock, balls, and ass mere inches from Melchior's face. He wears an almost bored expression as he closes the cap on a bottle of lube with one hand and smears his cock with the other. His fingers jab at Kyne's ass. The man tenses in pain, but doesn't make any sound of complaint. If his cock wasn't inside Melchior's mouth Cloud would not be able to tell. Kyne continues tonguing Melchior's dick and running his palm around his inner thighs in sensual circles as if nothing is happening.

Almasy jabs another finger into Kyne and scissors them. He's not deliberately rough, but nor is he patient. He forces his fingers apart, widening Kyne's entrance. Melchior feels the man tense again, and his tongue presses harder for a moment on the skin of Melchior's dick as though focusing on the blowjob can distract him from the violation he's experiencing. Despite the man's stoicism, Cloud can feel the hard, pained breaths rushing from his nose hitting Melchior's balls.

Melchior's heart is wrenching, Cloud can feel it. He watches Almasy withdraw the fingers, watches the man's hard, veiny cock approach the hole whose image Melchior had fixed in his mind to fantasize about only moments before. He watches the tip make contact and push. It fails to line up at first but Almasy applies more pressure and after a moment's resistance the first couple inches snap inside the young man's entrance. This time Kyne lets out a muffled wail, his mouth still wrapped around Melchior's cock like he needs it to live. Cloud feels an agonized swell of shame in Melchior as the vibration from Kyne's cry sends intricate pleasure down his shaft. A moment later Kyne resumes sucking, however, his hand stroking Melchior's base as his lips bob over the head of his dick.

Cloud watches Almasy's cock impress itself inexorably forward into Kyne's ass. As before, he isn't sadistic. He doesn't try to force his way in. But his continued impatience is evident in the way he keeps constant inward pressure, sliding forward every time Kyne's ass releases a contraction even if it tightens again right away, instead of waiting for the man to relax. Once it sinks all the way inside, he pulls out again and reaches for a second helping of lube.

Kyne's rhythm slows as he recovers during the brief break, and Melchior takes the opportunity to refocus his efforts on the man's cock, as if trying to remind him with his lips and tongue that he's not alone in this. Cloud can feel a tear leak from the side of his host's eye.

Almasy's looming cock returns above them all too soon, however, this time entering Kyne's ass more easily. He drives it all the way inside, and then begins a casual pace of thrusts Cloud wouldn't have reached for some time yet, preferring instead to gradually work up to that speed when his partner is ready. Kyne's attention to Melchior's dick finally wavers as Almasy hurts him. He holds the dick in his mouth as he cries, the vibrations creating more guilty pleasures.

Cloud can feel Kyne's dick pulsing inside Melchior's mouth as each unwanted thrust of the cock invades him, as the hated head of Almasy's penis punches the core of Kyne's sex while Melchior's mouth lovingly comforts the outside. And Cloud can feel Melchior's resolve as he sucks gently up and down the smooth length, determined to give the man as much pleasure as he can.

There are a pair of impacts near Melchior's shoulders as Almasy places first one foot on the divan, then the other. He's mounted in a crouch like a parasite now, jabbing his cock straight downward, using Kyne's hips to hold himself up. The man's casual, passionless fucking becomes harder and faster as Almasy pushes himself to climax with all the subtlety of a falling crate of knives.

Even as Cloud feels Kyne's cock swell to bursting in Melchior's mouth, Melchior's attention is fixed on every foul plunge of cock into the young man's ass, every slap of Almasy's balls as they swing back and forth, preparing to inject their unwanted seed into this man for little more than quick relief.

There's a moan on Melchior's cock in Kyne's throat as the tip of Kyne's dick swells one last time on Melchior's tongue and begins to twitch. Melchior presses his tongue against the slit and sucks welcomingly as the man's cum bursts into his mouth in a rush of fluid he pulls right to the back of his throat and swallows, ready for more.

Another burst roils out, and Melchior drinks it down too, even as he resentfully watches Almasy's cock bury itself in sync with the spurts of cum. The shaft rams inside, a wave of Kyne's cum spurts out, and Melchior receives and swallows. The pattern continues for several seconds.

The cum runs out, but Melchior continues to suck while Kyne's torment endures. Almasy's cock plunges in above them, those swinging balls drawing up tight, yet somehow it's still not over. That swollen rod splits Kyne again, and again, and again, and dozens of times more before finally, with nothing more than a single grunt to signal the moment, Cloud can see the muscles behind Almasy's balls contract and knows it's all coming to an end.

Together, Melchior and Cloud watch those contractions repeat. The head is buried inside Kyne, but the line in the middle of his dick pulses with each lecherous release. Almasy doesn't utter another sound, simply thrusting one jerky, half-inch thrust each time he shoots his cum. After the final wave he pulls out and shoves Kyne's ass forward off of him. Kyne collapses in exhaustion, his soft dick finding sanctuary against Melchior's chest. A stream of cum drips out of his ass on his way down, marking Melchior from his cheek to his jaw line, but it's not enough for Almasy. The man scoots over on his knees, holding his cock in position over Melchior's face with one hand while he pries his mouth open with the other. Once there's enough room he wrings his cock like a tube of toothpaste, causing a dense glob of white cum to well up on its tip. Almasy shoves the cock in and thrusts it a few times through his lips, forcing him to suck it clean while he watches.

Cloud is surprised at first when Melchior obliges, sucking the cock down more than he has to, until his host's feelings of rebellion cue him to the fact that the man is tasting Kyne on that dick, not Almasy.

Almasy rises from the divan and goes to fetch his drink. Melchior is staring miserably at Kyne's collapsed form straddling him in reverse. As he watches, Kyne's hole contracts and then relaxes, evicting a few wads of cum that dribble onto Melchior's chest. Melchior prods the hole gently, hoping to expel more.

In response, Kyne lifts his head up shakily, backs up, and lowers his mouth back onto Melchior's still painfully throbbing cock to finish him.

"Stop, I've had enough," comes Almasy's voice. Kyne's mouth pops off of Melchior's dick as the larger man grabs him by a fistful of hair and flings him to the floor in a tangle of naked limbs. Kyne's head strikes the floor and his eyes lose focus. He sits up and sways, dazed. Melchior rushes to his side and helps him up.

"Go on, get out," Almasy says, flinging himself onto the bed. "I'll call you next time I need you."

As Melchior half carries Kyne out of the room, the other man's hand reaches out and gathers Almasy's bloodstained clothes. Taking this final cue from the more experienced man, Melchior scrapes together their two wet, discarded tunics.

Searn's eyes snap open. "Don't wash those clothes," he says as they stumble out of the room. "Burn them as soon as you can. That's the blood of a sorceress you're holding."

As the two men pass back through the threshold, Cloud's consciousness loses its purchase on Melchior as swiftly as it found it. The world around him vanishes and he pitches again into the black void. As he does, he hears a distant voice calling his name.


End file.
